


Autistic Taryon Darrington

by DarkHorseAsh



Series: Neurodiverse/Mentally Ill Critical Role Oneshots [4]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Autistic Character, Autistic Taryon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Stimming, actually autistic, autistic keyleth, autistic main character, genderqueer character (mentioned), meltdowns, nonverbal taryon (sometimes)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 01:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19241467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkHorseAsh/pseuds/DarkHorseAsh
Summary: Taryon Darrington has always been different.  It's not until he leaves the shadow of his family that he realizes not everyone thinks of differences the same way his father does.





	Autistic Taryon Darrington

**Author's Note:**

> This is a looooong time in the writing, and I really hope you guys enjoy it!

Ever since he was a little boy, Taryon had been different.  His father had tried his absolute hardest to break him of it; through scoldings, through as many punishments as he could think of, and, when the boy got older, through  _ pain.  _  He knew better than to tell, but on days where he couldn’t quite keep his hands still, he would lock himself in the closet in his room and strike the wall with his hands until he couldn’t  _ feel  _ them anymore.  He stopped using his head for that when he realized he needed to be able to think to outsmart his father, to hide the keys and up the drinks on the bad days so that it wouldn’t be noticed.  

 

Learning to beat his father at his own games was surprisingly easy.  But he’d never even considered trying to hide from a group of people like Vox Machina.  They were easily the smartest and most perceptive people he had ever met, though frankly he had met so few people properly that it wasn’t much of a contest.  But Vox Machina were their own kind of weird, so they didn’t notice the little things. His horrific people skills were noted down as a sheltered childhood, and they were far too busy to notice his feet tapping in his boots.  But the big things, those he hid as best he could, shoving shaking hands into pockets, walking at the back of lines so he could rock on his heels and no one would see him. At night, he would often crawl into the closet in the corner of the room he was staying in, wrap himself up in blankets, and just shake and flap and rock and silently  _ beg  _ until the sun was starting to rise, when he would finally fall into a shaky slumber.  

 

If he had had his way, they would  _ never  _ have found out.  That was what he was hoping for, what he was going for, what he  _ wanted  _ to be the case.  Unfortunately, as was fairly likely given the circumstances, that was  _ not  _ what ended up happening.  This is the story of how all the members of Vox Machina figured Taryon Darrington out, in their own ways.  

 

“Taryon?”  Percy called softly as he entered the workshop,  _ his  _ workshop.  He hadn’t seen the man since the day before, none of them had, and apparently that was an unreasonable amount of time to not see someone before you went looking.  He had grown...he didn’t want to say  _ fond  _ of the boy, but at the very least a little protective because Tary reminded him  _ so much  _ of himself, before...everything.  “Taryon?” 

 

The workshop is lit, which means Tary is  _ definitely  _ here because the boy knows better than to leave it like this and Percy would absolutely never leave the workshop with it’s torches going.  That was one of the very few rules that he had for the workshop and Tary would never have broken it and risked not being allowed on his own down here. “Taryon? Where are you?” He’s met with silence so he moves carefully to search in every corner, behind the awkward stacks of boxes, towards the back of the shop where there was a small closet that he used for storage.  The door was cracked, so he hunched down and nudged it open gently. “Tary?” A tiny whine, which is instantly cut off, draws his attention to the corner, where he can see a bundle of person that he can only assume is the figure he’s looking for. 

 

“Taryon, I’m coming in, ok?”  Percy keeps his voice as soothing as he can as he slowly pulls himself into the closet, grimacing at the other man’s sharp whine of fear and the way he flinched away.  “Easy, darling.” he soothed, pausing to wonder when he had started to sound like Vex. Tary shook in his corner, all skittish, violent motions. “Shh, easy.” he breathes, reaching out a hand that he withdrew at once as the boy flinched away.  “Ok, easy. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, darling. Can I just sit here?” Tary gave a shaky nod, so Percy settled back against the wall. “Do you want me to talk or no?” The boy gave a frantic shake of his head, so Percy nods and relaxes as best he can, head resting on his fist, letting himself be  _ there  _ but not looking at or crowding the other man.

 

As he listened silently, he could hear Tary’s breathing deteriorating, hear the moment that it turned into stuttering, frantic gasps.  “Shh, easy man.” He murmurs, slowly moving, making sure to give Tary plenty of time to react. “We’re safe here, it’s ok. No one can hurt you.”  Tary didn’t even look up, still rocking frantically as Percy settles in next to him. “Tary, you have to breathe, you’re going to hurt yourself,” he soothes gently.  Tary gives another frantic whine, but this time Percy doesn’t budge because he knows better. He thinks back, to the many nights when Pike or the twins or kiki or even Grog and Scanlan had coaxed him through nightmares and panic attacks and  _ fear  _ that he couldn’t even put into words.  “I know, Tary, gods, I know, but I need you to breathe for me.”  Tary shakes against his side and Percy, in the quietest voice he can manage, begins to talk.  

 

He keeps his voice even and as calm and gentle as he can manage as he talks about the most boring technological things he can think of.  He talks about the first gun he had designed, about the metal flowers he was working on currently for Vex and Vax and Kiki and whoever they wanted to put in their hair.  He thought he might talk to Gilmore, see if he could put some sort of enchantments in them, maybe something protective because they all got injured way too often. He rests a hand open on his left knee, and eventually feels Tary curl his fingers through his own and cling as tightly as he can.  Percy clings back, feels his fingers throbbing and bruising under the frantic grasp of the younger man, but he just holds on until Tary goes limp against his side.

 

He’s  _ so tired.   _ He wasn’t entirely sure what had triggered this...episode, but he thought it might have something to do with not sleeping for two days and the heat in the workshop and the sound the hammer had made when he’d dropped it.  The sharp, piercing screeching noise as it had dragged over the metal had caused him to throw it, but the clanging scream as it hit the wall had been just as bad. The next time he blinked, he was hunched in the back corner of the storage closet, crying into his knees and rocking as if he could somehow shake the sound from his ears.  Now, he blinked sluggishly and found his head tucked into the side of a neck of a head covered with snow-white hair. He felt  _ humiliated,  _ exhausted and impossibly broken and he’s torn between throwing himself into Percy’s lap and running as far away as he can get.  

 

“I’m sorry.”  He isn’t sure the words are even understandable, his voice is weak and he’s still tucked into Percy’s neck, but the man sees to understand as he stiffens.  “Taryon, you never have to apologize for something that isn’t your fault.” Tary shakes his head frantically into Percy’s shoulder, hand tightening as he whimpers out “sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to be bad, please don’t hurt me.”  Percy stiffens, horror in his eyes that the boy thankfully can’t see. “You’re not bad, darling. You’re allowed to hurt. That’s not your fault. That’s not being bad. You’re a person, and you’re allowed to not be alright, darling.”  Tary whines frantically, shaking his head even as he clings tighter to Percy, head tucked into his shoulder as his body shakes with sobs. “Father said. I didn’t. I’m bad.” He sobs out. Percy wraps his arms around the boy’s shoulder, tugging Taryon into his lap.  The man went willingly, clinging frantically to Percy’s body. “It’s ok.” Percy soothes once more, holding the clinging boy as tight as he can. “I know. I know how you feel but you’re not bad, darling. Your father was wrong. There’s nothing bad about this. Ok?” 

 

Percy doesn’t move again, though he keeps whispering reassurances and trying to draw on his inner Pike, until Tary just slumps.  The boy is awake, but he’s clearly completely spent even as he keeps a weak grip on Percy’s coat. “ ‘m sorry.” He slurs, and Percy just runs a hand up his back and stands, dragging the shivering man with him.  “It’s alright. Let’s get you to bed, hm?” It’s a struggle to manage to drag him along; Percy is not a strong man, has never been a physically strong man, and Tary is practically boneless against his side, but he manages.  Finally, finally, he gets Tary’s door open and wrestles him onto his bed without too much trouble. The figure blinks up for a moment, movements sluggish as Percy eases off his boots and coat. “You ok?” Tary nods, shifting to regain a grip on Percy’s coat, and the gunslinger gives a tired, sad smile.  “Yeah, ok.” He nudges off his boots and coat, settling down on the far side of the bed and letting Taryon crawl back into his lap and trying not to stiffen in surprise at the man’s openness. “Sleep, Tary. You’re exhausted.” Tary settles, head tucked into his neck, hand clinging to Percy’s as, for the first time in three days, he closes his eyes and lets himself dream.  

 

Vex finds out next.  She scares Tary, more than most of the others, because every time she looks at him he feels as though she is looking into his soul and seeing the broken edges and damage he knows he will never be able to make  _ normal,  _ as his father had wished.  On this particular day, Vex had decided to drag him along to the stores.  He hadn’t really been given an option of  _ not  _ being dragged, since the others had declared their lack of a desire to, and so he found himself stalking after the black-haired half elf.  Normally, he liked to shop. The problem was that today, it was  _ impossibly  _ crowded, and he had already been having a reasonably bad day.  He wanted to be somewhere, anywhere but shoved in the back of a spice shop that he was certain had half the damn city in it and left alone while Vex flirted to get a discount from the store owner.  

 

It was loud.  Tary tucked himself as far as he could into the corner of the shop.  They had been out for a little while, at this point, maybe two hours, and until then it had been  _ fine.   _ Not good, but fine.  He could do it. But now, shoved into the corner of a shop that was so full of smells it would be overwhelming on a  _ good  _ day, Tary could barely breathe.  His eyes frantically searched for Vex, but he couldn’t see her and he couldn’t find her and he was  _ so alone  _ and it was so impossibly, terrifyingly loud that he just buried his head in his hands, one of which was frantically flapping alongside his head as the other dug nails deep into his wrist.  “Vex” he whimpered frantically, feeling the way his body was starting to twitch and shake without his permission. “Please.” 

 

Vex doesn’t mean to spend twenty minute haggling, but she had  _ missed  _ this and so she did.  Twenty minutes later, with her pack  _ full  _ of interesting spices, she turned to scan the room and look for her shopping partner, finally catching sight of the brown hair on the far side of the room.  She raised a hand in greeting, surprised when he didn’t even look up, and so she approached quickly. “Taryon, darling, I got some wonderful spices thank you for being patient.  My brother or Percy would have just cut me off and paid for them fifteen minutes ago.” Tary doesn’t respond, and so she looks closer, feeling worry strike her chest at the sight of his head down, right hand flexing open and closed as the left was...bleeding?  

 

Vex reached forward, fingers curling around Tary’s elbow and holding firmly as the boy tried to flinch away.  “Alright, darling, let’s go outside, ok?” She’s not even sure that he can hear her, but she keeps him behind her as best she can as she hurries them both outside, noting the way the boy flinched every time someone made a noise or they walked past a particularly fragrant set of spices.  Tary was shaking violently by the time they made it out to the street, which was...problematic for  _ so many reasons  _ because while Tary wouldn’t get recognized easily, Vex would, and she knew right now Tary wouldn’t want people seeing them.  “Ok, Tary, I’ve got you.” She soothes, hand still grasping his elbow as she guides him down the street. “Almost there, darling, you’re doing so well.”  Tary lets out a weak sob, clearly forcing himself to keep moving when he just wanted to crumple to the ground. She felt  _ awful  _ for making him move but she couldn’t carry him and Grog wasn’t here to do it like he could when Keyleth had this issue and Percy wasn’t here either and so she just tugged him forward and apologized over and over.  Vex slams her hand on the door twice, and is met with a very confused looking Kima.

“Vex?  What are you...Taryon?  What the hell is going on?”  Tary whines, shivering frantically and giving a frantic whimper, and Vex shakes her head slightly at the halfling.  Kima, to her credit, nods and lets them pass. “Second door on the left. It’s soundproof. Dark, too.” Vex gives her her best  _ ‘thank you you are the best person alive right now _ ’ smile and nods, pulling the boy behind her until they were through the door and it was closed.  Then she let him go, watching sadly as the human threw himself in the other direction, shivering and whimpering frantically.  “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” He babbled, blood trickling over his left hand from where it clings to his wrist and right flapping frantically against the wall.  “Sorry. Please.” Vex moves with him, letting him go but keeping close enough to touch. “I know, darling. It’s alright. Nothing can hurt you, here.” This reminded her, in a way, of Percy in his most heartbreaking moments, when he would cling to her as if she was the only thing keeping him alive and just break.  It reminded her of Keyleth, pressing into her side with her hands over her ears as she shook after days that were just  _ bad,  _ or when they had first met, how Keyleth had spent every social interaction hunched behind Grog and trying to be invisible. Sometimes, the other girl still did, and they all kindly pretended not to notice.  She brushed a hand over Tary’s shoulder, feeling him lean into it, and just left it there as she let him try to calm himself. 

 

It was a long time before Tary looked up, but when he did, his eyes were calmer.  He was less shaky, though tremors still occasionally ran through him, and his forearm still bled sluggishly down his hand.  “I’m sorry about that.” Vex makes a gentle noise, reaching slowly for the injured wrist, as if approaching a wounded animal.  Tary lets her take it, lets her tug it gently into her own lap to look at. “It’s alright, darling. I just wish you had told me something was wrong before it got that bad.  We could have left before it got so awful.” Tary’s voice is shaky as he whispers “I did not want to...to inconvenience you because of my own weakness.” Vex blinks, worry filling her eyes.  “You are not an inconvenience Taryon, you are a...a friend. I didn’t  _ need  _ to get those spices, and I certainly didn’t need to relax by spending half an hour bickering with a store clerk.  We could have left. I’m sorry I didn’t see something going wrong.” 

Tary tries frantically to protest, to say that it’s his fault, his fault, not hers, he was the one who couldn’t  even be ok in a shop. “I’m sorry.” Vex ignores him, rummaging in her bag for her medical kit and slowly cleaning and washing his forearm.  “I’m going to wrap this.” She doesn’t make it a question, doesn’t leave him the room to have to think or to protest out of some kind of thought that he  _ had  _ to not be ok with this.   She had done this before, many times, with Vax.  With Keyleth. With all of her family. She understood how to take care of someone like  _ this,  _ which surprised Tary more than he had expected. “Thank you.”  She smiles, not the kind of smile she gave to a shopkeeper when she wanted five gold off, but a true smile, and nods.  “It’s no bother, Taryon.  _ You  _ are no bother, alright? Now, are you ok to go home?”   
  


Vex grimaced at her choice of words, because she could  _ see  _ Tary forcing the mask back on, forcing himself to his feet, even as he shook slightly, and so she stepped in.  “Actually, let’s see what Kima and Allura have for lunch, shall we? I’m starving.” She pretends not to see the grateful look that Taryon sends her as he dips his head with a tired, but genuine, smile.  “I think I might like that plan.” 

 

He tried to stay more to himself, after that.  He didn’t want to push his luck; just because Percy and Vex had been kind to him didn’t mean the others would be.  He  _ liked  _ these people, he didn’t want to lose them.  When he wasn’t  _ having  _ to do something with the others, he stuck to his room or the workshop, tinkering and building and enjoying spending time with Percy.  It was  _ amazing  _ to have someone else to tinker with, someone who didn’t mind when he rambled or when he would stand on his toes and flap as they worked.  

 

Surprisingly, to him at least, it was Keyleth who figured it out next.  Vox Machina was going to some sort of fancy dinner, and he was being brought along which was...nice?  He knew how to do fancy, knew how to put on fancy clothes and put his face up and pretend to be normal.  But he also knew that such a dinner had never,  _ ever,  _ gone well for him.  There was always some noble who thought they were so much better who would say something, about the way his hands wouldn’t quite sit still or about his inability to look them in the eyes.  And then someone else would say it. And then someone else. His father’s favorite activity had been to bring him to these dinners to make conversations about his  _ stupid broken bad bad bad  _ son.  

 

He knew he could’ve told them, Percy or Vex or even one of the others, and they wouldn’t make him go.  He probably didn’t even have to say  _ why,  _ he could just say that he didn’t like the dinners.  But they had invited him. He wanted to be grateful, he wanted to  _ make  _ them like him because he liked them and he needed people.  He wanted people he wanted friends even if he had never quite known how to make them.  And so he slipped into the fancy robes, tucked his hands into his pockets, and stood two feet behind Vax, who he had decided was the most intimidating-looking person they had.  

 

He almost let himself believe it was going to be ok.  The first half-hour was  _ fine,  _ pleasantries and cheese with ambassadors would never be his favorite thing, because he  _ hated  _ small talk, but he could do it.  And then, a few minutes before they were to go sit down and eat and he would be ok because no one can see you once you’re sitting, he felt the eyes lock on him.  He hadn’t even realized his hand was flapping against his hip, but now that he felt the eyes he forced the hand to fall still as best he could. “Hey, you, freaky one, what are you doing over there?  I’ve never seen you with this lot before.” 

 

The man was  _ big,  _ big enough to be physically intimidating, and he could feel himself bouncing on his heels under the intense gaze.  “Excuse me, sir, are you talking to me?” He can’t make his eyes reach the figure’s so he keeps them down, knowing what will happen and hating it.  “Yes, you, freak. Look at me when I talk to you you disrespectful brat.” A strong hand grabs his jaw and he yelps as his head is roughly forced up.  “Sir, I would appreciate it if you would let me go, please.” He’s a little proud of how strong his voice sounds even as he shakes. “Hey, guys, you see the freak?”  He could  _ feel  _ their eyes on him now, all of the surrounding men’s eyes.   _ Please, Percy, Vex,  _ **_someone_ ** _.   _ He begs silently. 

 

Keyleth had been chatting with Allura and the rest of Vox Machina in the hall when  _ that  _ had been happening.  She’d realized Tary wasn’t there and, feeling a guilty pang in her chest for accidentally leaving him she slipped back into the room and froze as she saw the scene before her.  A massive figure was gripping Tary by the face and she could  _ hear  _ them laughing, the words bouncing off their lips of  _ freak  _ or  _ idiot  _ or  _ wrong  _ or  _ bad  _ and she didn’t have to see Taryon’s face to know what it looked like.  She strode forwards, trying to keep her own breathing calm as she walked into the circle and slammed her fist into the man’s nose just as he sneered out another “Look me in the eyes you little brat, or I’m going to have to  _ punish you _ .”  He went backwards as he lost his grip, and she made a note to thank the others for her punching technique as she grabbed Taryon’s arm and pulled him behind her.  “We are going to leave now. Do not touch him ever again.” She could feel his shaking growing worse with every second, so she yanked him into the first closet she saw and closed the door.

Tary was  _ crying  _ and Keyleth was afraid.  She had never been good at this, this was the twins area, or the gnomes.  They knew how to bring someone back because they’d done it so any times that it was as easy as breathing.  She’d helped, of course, with their nightmares and panic attacks and  _ fear,  _ but she’d really never done it alone except for once with Percy and she had nearly ended up just as panicked as he was.  She’d spent that night curled up in Vex’s arms apologizing over and over for not being good enough, for not being able to help him, even as Vex assured her that she had done  _ fine _ .  They had both tried to avoid such an experience in the future but now?  Now she had no choice because Taryon Darrington was huddled sobbing in the corner of a closet and there was absolutely no way she could pull the others out again after they had already made a scene.  She was also pretty sure they might be murdering the ambassadors at the moment. 

 

She tries to think about what  _ she  _ likes when this happens and works with that.  Tary seems to respond well to her tugging him into her arms, as he winds his own around her back and tucks his face into her shoulder.  “Hey, easy, it’s ok.” She soothes rather frantically, but he only shakes harder. “I’m so sorry, Tary. I shouldn’t have left you with them by yourself.  You’re alright, no one here is going to hurt you here.” She presses light kisses to the side of his head and holds him, feeling both of their hearts beating far too fast.  “It’s ok, love. I’ve got you and I’m sure Vex or Percy or someone else will be along to get us out of here soon. Which is good, because I think this door is locked?” 

 

She doesn’t think he’s really listening, and for the most part he isn’t.  She talks, babbles really, about literally everything that pops into her mind for those long, painful moments.  She talks about the color of the sun in the morning over her people’s home. She talks about Vax’s smile and Vex’s hands and the way Pike would look at you and you would feel not-broken.  She talks about mornings waking up to Scanlan singing, about drinking with Grog and sitting with Percy as he builds and not even knowing what he is making, just  _ being there _ .  She talks about their fairly...interesting relationship, about mornings spent kissing half a dozen different mouths and knowing every one, except the twins, without opening her eyes.  She talks about family,  _ good  _ family, and she can feel the terror in him starting to fade.  They sit, half holding each other, as Tary talks shakily about  _ love  _ and fear and  _ punishment.  _

 

“I don’t think my father likes me very much.”  She turns to look at him but he keeps his head down and she never pressures him to look up.  He’s impossibly grateful for that. “He didn’t, he’s never liked me so much. It’s my fault. I’m bad.  It’s my fault.” His voice is tiny, and Keyleth tightens the arm that is over his shoulder. “You’re not  _ bad,  _ Taryon.  You’re good.  You’re so good.  You try so hard even when you have no idea what you’re doing, even when it  _ hurts  _ you to try you still do.  You’re so good.” She isn’t sure whether she said the right thing or the wrong one, because Tary, who had been leaning against the wall, twists sideways, buries his head in her shoulder and starts to cry again, softer this time.  This wasn’t  _ scared broken fear pain  _ crying this was just  _ tired  _ and  _ relieved  _ and  _ I trust you not to hurt me for this.   _ It was hope, somewhere in the sea of worn-out fear.  

 

He was dozing in her lap when the door opened.  Keyleth looked up, her own eyes red with tears, as Vex crouched in front of her. “Hey there, Kiki.  You two doing ok?” Keyleth glanced down, running a hand over the soft hair with a sigh. “Tell me you beat their asses?”  Vex gave a wicked grin as she nodded. “Oh yeah. Grog was having fun when I left. They were  _ bragging.   _ I think my brother was getting his daggers ready. _ ”   _ Keyleth snarled, and Vex hummed in agreement.  “Cmon. Let’s get him, and you, out of here.” Keyleth nods, standing slowly with Taryon leaning on her side.  His head lolls to the side as he opens glazed eyes and gives a relieved little whine, leaning between the women.  Vex runs a hand over his shoulder, wraps her free one around Keyleth’s, and holds on to them both as tight as she can.  Tary notes, through his exhaustion, that he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more safe than between his two  _ friends.   _ He’s never had friends before, that’s nice.  “Thank you. Kiki.” He isn’t sure she heard, till she shifts and runs her hand over his shoulder again.  “Thank you, Tary. We’ve got you, alright, just make it to Grog and then you can rest.” He nods, forces his legs to move, and sends a tired smile to each.  “Yeah. Can do that, for you two, I think. I can do that.”

 

The universe seems to have decided that it doesn’t  _ matter  _ if Tary wants the others to know or not, because no matter how hard he tries, they seem to find out.  He  _ hates  _ it, hates the way he thinks Vex and Keyleth and Percy look at him now that they know how broken he is.  He’s on edge, constantly feeling like he is a moment from hurtling off the edge of a cliff into  _ nothingness,  _ like they’ll throw him out and get rid of him and he’ll be out in the world all alone.  He doesn’t think he does alone very well. But even that wasn’t the most stressful thing in his life at the moment.  For Taryon, who had never been aloud to be anything other than he was, he was spending more and more time realizing that he didn’t know who he  _ wanted  _ to be.  What did he like to wear or say or do?  He wasn’t sure he knew, anymore, and that was  _ terrifying.   _

 

Somehow, strangely, it seemed to be Grog who noticed.  The goliath had always scared Taryon, because he was big and terrifying and he could do  _ whatever the hell he wanted and no one could stop him.   _ Tary was often torn between wanting to  _ be  _ that and wanting to be  _ as far as possible  _ from that.  Grog seemed to understand this, as he generally stayed far from the nervous boy.  But now, Tary found himself somehow walking next to grog towards a...place of  _ lady favors.   _ He didn’t really _ want  _ to go, wasn’t entirely sure how he had been talked into it, but he really needed to find a way to get out of this.  

 

Grog drops ten gold on the counter, and Tary tries to disappear behind him.  A goliath hand on his shoulder makes that  _ very  _ hard as he hears Grog rumble “an’ my pal here would like someone a little more, yknow, male.”  Tary flushes, ducks his head, and tries to bury himself in Grog’s side. He’s fully ready for the  _ hatred bad punish  _ to come, but the woman’s voice is almost kind as she gives a small smile.  “Of course, we can certainly accommodate that.” Grog grins down at him, eyes kinder than Taryon had expected.  “Well cmon then.”

 

It’s a better night than Tary had expected, and he tells Grog so when he walks back with him the next morning.  The goliath is all smiles, and his hand hasn’t left Tary’s shoulder. Tary flicks his eyes up as they walk, studying the storefronts that they’re strolling past, his eyes lingering on a skirt in the window of one of the shops.  It’s pale purple, with deep blues, and he isn’t quite able to keep the longing out of his eyes. It must be  _ really  _ obvious, if  **Grog** notices, because the Goliath pauses.  “Ya wan’ that?” Taryon freezes like a wounded animal suddenly spotted, spinning and scrambling off in the other direction as fast as he can go.  “No, sorry, sorry.” He whispers to himself as he moves.  _ I’m so  _ **_stupid._ ** _ How could I be so stupid I know better. _

 

He was somewhat surprised the goliath, who had slowed, didn’t catch up to him in about five minutes.  Grog was fast, when he wanted to be, and Tary was never going to be able to keep up. But Grog didn’t catch up, so the boy made it back to Whitestone without too much of an issue.  He slipped into his room, leaned on the wall, and carefully took deep breaths until the terror in his chest began to fade. He tugged on a jacket, ignoring the way his brain flickered back to the thoughts of of the clothing store.  He didn’t  _ want  _ to think about it, didn’t want to want the skirt.  He knew it was  _ bad perverted wrong.   _ He knew he had to be  _ punished.   _ It was ingrained into his brain at this point, through years of his father’s corrections, but it didn’t make him hate himself any less when he pressed the blade to his skin.

 

He was  _ so tired.   _ The nightmares hadn’t given a moment of reprieve and he was  _ impossibly  _ weary as he pulled out of bed.  A few moments passed as he tried to keep himself up, before he spotted the bag sitting on the edge of the dresser.  He glanced in, already knowing that he would find purple and blue fabric. He wanted to hate it, to throw it across the room and stomp on it, but he couldn’t bring himself to pick his feet up, couldn’t bring a blade down on it because he  _ wanted it _ .  

 

He finds Grog in the training room, throwing his Axe and pulling it back.  He watches, for a moment, and then moves. “What are you playing at, huh? You want to just, dangle it in front of me when you know I can’t have it?”  Grog turned, axe in his hands, and Tary realizes that he  _ might have made a very big mistake.   _ “What?”  The goliath asks in confusion.  “What is wrong? I thought you wanted the skirt?” Tary ducked his head down, trying to force the embarrassment out of his eyes.  “I’m not, I’m not female, Grog, I can’t wear that.” The goliath’s eyes were full of genuine confusion as he looked back at the human.  “Why not?

 

He isn’t even aware he’s yelling till the words are already out of his mouth.  “You don’t think I know the rules? I can’t like that stuff it’s not normal and he’ll hurt me and I don’t want him to hurt me!  Not any more! It’s not, I don’t want to hurt damn it!” Tary sobs, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. Grog trots forward, something like concern flickering in the goliath’s eyes.  “ ‘s not bad.” The goliath’s eyes were confused as he took a careful step forward, still holding the axe. Tary was shivering under the gaze, eyes wide and terrified as a goliath hand lands on his shoulder and tugs him into a warm chest.

 

He’s fairly ashamed to admit it, but he bursts into tears.  Tary is  _ so tired,  _ his body throbbed from his own rounds of punishments, and he really just wanted someone to take care of him for a moment.  Grog was….confused, and more than a little alarmed, but he just wrapped his arms tight around the shivering boy. “Do yah need me to get the twins?  Or Pike? Are you hurt?” The goliath’s eyes are wide with concern as he tries not to break the shivering teenager. Tary gives a tiny shake of his head and clings tighter, face buried into Grog’s chest as the goliath drops to the ground and tugs the boy into his lap, like he does with Pike on nights when the nightmares are too much or when she’s particularly tired or drunk.  Recently, it feels like they’ve all taken turns snuggling into his lap. They say he feels safe and he thinks he likes that, making his family feel safe. “Yer ok.” He mutters awkwardly. “Yer ok.” 

 

Tary finally gets why the others, when they’re  _ hurt broken scared,  _ will curl up in the goliath’s lap or lean on him and let him hold them. Grog feels  _ safe,  _ like he could disappear into the bigger man’s chest and nothing could touch him.  He was crying, sobbing, clinging to Grog’s side and shivering frantically as he pressed into the touch.  The goliath shifts, and he keens sharply as he shoves himself further into Grog’s side. “Please don’t let him hurt me I don’t want him to punish me again I know I’m bad.”  The boy sobs softly, and Grog’s arms tighten protectively. “He won’t get ya. He’d have to get past all’a us first.” Tary curls closer, head resting on Grog’s chest as his shaking finally slowed.  The goliath shifts to look at the man, not for the first time wishing he had Pike’s skill with making people feel better. 

 

Tary was pretty sure it was over an hour later when he finally moved.  Grog was dozing, arms wrapped firmly, but not too tightly, around his shoulders.  “Yah alright?” Tary nods, eyes exhausted. “Yah not bad just cause yah like pretty things.”  Grog grunts, as gently as a Goliath Barbarian can. “Plenty’ah people like pretty stuff. ‘S pretty.  ‘as a girl in mey herd, who they said was ‘spossed to be a boy, but she wasn’t.” Tary ducks his head down, feeling a sharp pang in his chest.  “ ‘s not bad?” He repeats, somewhat incredulously. “ ‘m allowed?” Grog snorts, the movement shaking Tary’s body from where is still resting against the massive chest.  “What’d I say? We’d kill any’ne who messed with you.” 

 

He feels impossibly safer when he slips back into his own room, later, after a few hours of ‘training’ with Grog.  It was less training and more just like, Grog throwing him around the pit, but it was fun enough as long as he ignored the bruises that were developing.  He  _ ached,  _ but it was an ache that made him feel impossibly protected.  His fingers ran over the fabric of the skirt, unable to stop looking at the purple and blue fabric as he remembers what Grog had said earlier.   _ “You’re not bad.”   _ It’s impossibly soft under his hands and he can’t help but want it.  He takes a deep, slow breath, thinks of Grog’s face, the most serious he had ever seen it, and pulls the skirt on.

 

He understands, sometimes, why Pike is everyone’s favorite and it is universally agreed that if something hurts her, it dies.  Pike is  _ kind  _ in a way that he thinks most people aren’t, in the sense that she doesn’t except anything in payment for her kindness she is simply good for the purpose of being good.  He likes that, sometimes, because it means she never pushes, never asks for more than he can give. She just lets him exist. On the other hand, he knows if he  _ asked,  _ she would probably listen and that’s always felt almost as good as the fact that she out of everyone he’s ever met  _ won’t  _ make him talk.

 

Somewhat more strangely, he’s always liked Scanlan more than most who met Vox Machina seeed to.  Sure, he was loud and ridiculous and made  _ far  _ too many sex jokes for Tary’s liking, but there was a thread of genuine care under that, and Tary could see why the others liked him.  But despite liking one of the gnomes and not  _ disliking  _ the other, he still had never really spent that much time with them.  Pike was just  _ too  _ happy; he felt like he was far too broken to be around her, like he would  _ bad broken mess  _ on her.  

 

One morning, Pike comes into the dining room where he is sitting with his knees tucked into his wall, and she approaches him before he had time to run the other direction.  “Taryon? Are you busy today?” he gives a tiny shake of his head, because he, like most people,  _ can not  _ seem to lie to Pike Trickfoot.  She gives him the brightest smile imaginable and he feels impossibly unworthy as she does.  “I was wondering, if you weren’t busy tinkering or training or something, if you wanted to come get a drink with me and Grog?”  Tary blinked in surprise, somewhat expecting a far different conversation. 

 

“Uh, sure?”  One of his hands wraps around his ear and tugs a few times, leaving him twitchy and nervous, but Pike doesn’t seem to mind.  “Great, I’ll come find you when it’s time to go.” She trots off after Grog, leaving a completely confused Tary sitting at the dining table not entirely sure what it is he has just agreed to as he watches the tiny gnome scramble up onto the shoulders of the goliath like it was the easiest thing she had ever done.  He vaguely wondered what it would be like to feel  _ that  _ safe around someone, but quickly shook it off and turned his attention to the book on his lap.

 

The sun was just starting to set when Grog burst through his door.  He tried to hide the flinch, but judging by the look Pike gave him, he didn’t succeed.  Grog doesn’t seem to notice, effectively scooping the human out of his bed with a grin on his face.  “Ale time!” He cheers. Tary grins despite himself, thumping a hand on the goliath’s shoulder till he is released. “Let me get dressed first, big man.”

 

Pike insists that they’re going out to somewhere where they won’t get noticed, so he wears a loose black tunic over the skirt that Grog had given him once, weeks that felt like so much longer before.  True to Pike’s word, the tavern was full enough and hole-in-the-wall enough that no one seemed to really notice who the others were. Pike and Grog  _ immediately  _ dove into what seemed to be a far-from-the-first-time drinking contest, which he somehow wound up “Officiating.”  For Tary, this basically consisted of drinking and trying to make sure neither of them cheated, though he wasn’t clear on  _ how  _ one cheated in this game, or choked to death.  

 

Taryon wasn’t someone who typically drank a ton.  He’d have a few drinks, but then he would usually settle back and watch his friends and just Not drink.  But tonight, he was rather desperate to get a bit more relaxed and to not constantly feel as though his skin was on fire due to the number of people in the bar, and so he drank.  It didn’t help, or hurt, that Pike and Grog were clearly both people who enjoyed it, judging by the amount of alcohol they were consuming. 

 

He was beginning to remember why he didn’t drink, it didn’t  _ help.   _ Sure, it lessened the buzzing of tension under his skin, but it also lowered the walls that kept the worst of his memories at bay, and he was certain it was not a trade worth making.  Pike was settled against Grog’s side, one massive arm draped over her tiny frame. The pub has only grown louder, and Tary can’t help the soft whine in the back of his throat as he looks around.

 

He’s not sure what sets him off, but he’s vaguely certain it’s the massive figure who runs into him.  He hits the table, turns, pulls his hands into his chest as the figure sneers. “What are you doing here all alone, little brat.  It’s not safe here for someone so pretty to be alone.” He’s certain he whimpers, presses back away from the figure but they just keep  _ coming  _ and he can’t stop the shivers running through his body.  “No thank you, go away please.” The mass of person above him  _ sneers,  _ pushes closer, and he gives a frantic “Stop it  **help** someone  _ please.”   _ In his  _ commotion terror fear  _ he’d accidentally shoved himself away from their table, he realizes, as  he shoves frantically back towards them he can still feel the hand digging into his shoulder.

 

It must show on his face, because Pike is moving before he can blink and he has the figure against the wall.  Grog pulls Taryon to his side and stands, bodily forcing his way towards the door. Grog is saying something, but the roaring terror in his ears and the sound of the bar drowns him out as he grabs his hands and tugs him.  Tary is quite certain Grig could tug him off a cliff and he wouldn’t notice at this point, free hand clasped rather desperately over his ears. His words catch in his throat frantically as he tries to force the sounds out.  

 

“I, ah, ah, ah”  he chokes out, hand clinging frantically to Grog’s as he shoves people aside to get them both out onto  the street. He’s barely aware of the shakes running through his body and he  _ must  _ look bad, because Grog nudges him onto a bench, shoves his head between his knees, and wraps himself around him gently.  He’s speaking, Tary can hear that much, but there’s a terrifying disconnect between his knowledge that he is speaking and him knowing what he is  _ saying.   _ He’s not there, really, he’s god knows where, shoved into whatever corner his father hurtled him into with blood running over his hands and he doesn’t understand what he did and he’s  _ so afraid and…. _

 

And Pike is in his lap, bracing herself on his chest, with her small hands pressed to his face.  “It’s ok. Taryon, I need you to breathe, you’re going to pass out. It’s ok.” She can  _ tell  _ Tary isn’t really listening, not hearing the words she’s saying, so she gives up speaking and just holds the shaking human until he slowly quiets.  She’s drunk, but not stupid, so she nudges him till he’s laying down, curls around his head, and holds his hand to her chest as Grog wraps his arms around both.  “I should’ve hit him harder.” Pike grumbles, as everything slowly fades.

 

He wakes up warm and wrapped in blankets and goliath arms with a Gnome standing on his knees.  Pike has a hand to his head and she’s feeling for his temperature and his shoulders relax slightly when he realizes it’s just her.  He’s  _ tired,  _ the sort of bone deep ache in his soul that leaves his tongue useless and his hands shaky.  He’s not entirely sure how he got to this bed and in these blankets, which worries him, but Pike is there so he’s at least pretty sure he’s  _ safe.   _ He hums, low and aching, and Pike perks up and yanks her hands off of his face.  He tries not to whine at the lost contact. “Oh Tary.” She murmurs, eyes wide and concerned.  “Are you ok?” He nods, the words on his tongue unable to make it past his lips, so he just tucks his head into her chest.  “It’s ok if you can’t talk yet, Tary. I’ve helped Kiki before when she can’t speak, and I’ve seen Percy struggle with speaking after nightmares, too.  You don’t  _ have  _ to talk.”  

 

He’s almost glad he can’t, because he’s not sure if he knows what to say to that so he just leans forward and tucks his head further into her.  Pike hums gently, running her tiny hands over his neck. He vaguely notices that she’s singing something, soft and celestial and sweet, and he feels himself relax and curl back into grog.  He hopes she understands the thank you in his eyes. 

They’re back in his parent’s home.  He did  _ not  _ want to be hear, but apparently there was some kind of catastrophe going on with a dragon and a fire..something and...ok, yeah, he was  _ not  _ paying attention to the briefing on this mission but he’d been a little bit busy panicking about the fact that he had to go home.  “Tary?” Keyleth tilts her head to look at him, eyes dark with worry. “Tary, you don’t have to go in. I don’t think your father knows that you’re here, yet.”  He hesitates, and the terror on his face must show because Vex gives a firm shake of her head as she takes charge. “Ok. Percy, Pike, with me on talking. Grog, Scanlan, you’re backup.  Kiki, Tary, you keep watch out here.” She doesn’t say it’s because he can’t go in, doesn’t want to go in, but she doesn’t  _ have  _ to.  He knows it’s why but he’s so relieved he can’t even complain about it.  He doesn’t want to complain about it. 

 

Keyleth settles in on the bench next to him, head tilted so that she can listen  to the people inside the house as best she can. “There’s a bit of shouting going on.”  She murmurs, and Tary stiffens against her side. They’re tucked together when the others reemerge, Grog grumbling under his breath.  Vex looks  _ furious,  _ one of her hands gripping her brother’s wrist as he tucks himself between her and Percy.  Keyleth stands to greet them, eyes wide. “What happened? Vex?” Vex huffed, sitting on the now-empty bench and dragging the boys along to it.  Vax huffed, shaking off Vex and standing as he paced furiously. “My idiotic twin didn’t exactly take well to your father insulting you.” Percy gave a sigh, stretching out his long legs.  “Your father is a dick, Taryon.” Scanlan calls from his perch on Grog’s shoulder, Pike on the other side. Tary gives a jerky nod, shifting to stand nearer to the goliath and gnomes. 

 

“He didn’t know anything.”  Taryon gives an incredulous laugh, one hand to his ear.  “He does know. He knows everything that goes on in this town; he just didn’t want to tell you.  Percival, come with me?” His eyes are frantic and pleading and Percy can’t say no so he doesn’t.  “Alright. Let’s go, then. I want to get this done so we can get out of here.” Percy stands a few feet behind, one hand resting against Tary’s shoulder until the door was open and they were inside.  

 

He wasn’t surprised to be met with the same sneer he saw in his nightmares damn near every night, but the knowledge didn’t lessen how unpleasant it was.  “Father.” He keeps his voice careful; he doesn’t want to be told he sounds disrespectful within the first 5 seconds. He knows it won’t matter, that it’s not  _ possible  _ for him to be good enough, but he tries with everything in him.  Keyleth is gripping his wrist with one hand and Percy has an arm wrapped around his and he feels safer than he wants to admit between them, head pressing into their shoulders as he shivers.  “You’re fine.” Percy breathes into his ear, voice calm and careful. “We won’t let him hurt you.”

 

Vex stays outside, this time, because they’re pretty sure if they let her back in she’s going to murder someone.  Tary isn’t exactly  _ against  _ this idea, because he really would like to not have to worry about his father any more, but he doesn’t want to deal with them all being arrested and so he walks in with Percy on one side and Vax on the other and lets them make him feel brave.  One of his hands is playing frantically at Vax’s braid. Vax gives a low, soothing hum, working his deft fingers over Tary’s back as the man lifts his head to look at his father and tries not to flinch away from the raw  _ hate  _ he sees in those eyes.

  
  


Afterwards, when they have the information they need and they’re back at the inn and the others are drinking, Vax takes him gently by the wrist and tugs him up to one of the rooms they had rented.  Tary curls into the corner of the bed and shivers, eyes wide and fearful and  _ incredibly  _ exhausted as he clings to his knees and Vax just waits a few feet away for long, painful moments.  He doesn’t want to push without asking, but it’s hard not to just grab the shivering figure in front of him and hold him as tight as he can like he would with the rest of his family.  Tary finally seems to understand, giving a whimper and reaching out to cling to Vax’s arm and the half-elf finally moves, drawing the human into his lap and leaning against the wall, arms tightly wrapped around Taryon.  “It’s alright, Tary. You did good.” He breathes, resting his head against the boy’s shoulder as Taryon shutters into his side. “We’ve got you.”

 

Later, when the others slip into the room slightly drunk but still worried about the fact that Vax and Tary had vanished, they find they curled on one of the beds sound asleep.  Vex coos gently at how adorable the scene is, as Grog tugs the second bed over to sort of make it into one and flops down. Keyleth shifts smoothly into her Minxie form and scrambles over the sleeping bodies to flop down on Tary’s other side.  Vax shifts, stirring for a moment to send an amused look at his family before settling again. Vex stretches out behind her brother, carefully unbrading his hair with precise fingers. Pike clambers over to curl up on Vex’s lap as Scanlan takes his usual spot on top of Grog’s chest.  Tary leans happily into their touch, fingers tangling into Minxie’s fur as he gives a soft, exhausted “Srry guys.” Vex finishes with her brother’s hair in time to lean over him, resting a hand against Tary’s side. “No need, darling. We love you, ok Tary?” Behind him, Keyleth’s muzzle snuffles at his hair.  “We love you.” 


End file.
